The Once Upon a Time Affair: Getting your priorities straight
by MLaw
Summary: Illya Kuryakin had often prophesied that his partner's wandering eye would lead to trouble for someone. That prophecy had finally come true for the Russian and not Napoleon.


**The prompt:**

_**Illya Kuryakin had often prophesied that his partner's wandering eye would lead to trouble for someone. That prophecy had finally come true for **__**{your choice}**_

Illya Kuryakin had often prophesied that his partner's wandering eye would lead to trouble for someone. That prophecy had finally come true for the Russian and not Napoleon.

His head was throbbing with pain, as were other parts of his body. He'd been beaten and tortured but refused as always to give the whereabouts of a microdot he and Solo had stolen.

His captors lowered their guard, leaving him hanging there alone by the wrists as they thought he was unconscious. Illya managed to hike himself up to the wooden beam above his head, enabling to lift his handcuffed wrists from a heavy hook from which he'd been dangling like a side of beef.

It was a painful move as it required his abdominal muscles to manage most of the lifting, and given he'd been punched in the stomach time and again while being questioned, he surprised himself that he had the strength to make that little maneuver.

He lifted his legs to a pike position, then slowly raised them above his head until he was able to swing them up and over the beam. From there he unhooked his cuffs and was able to find his lock pic in the hem of his trousers.

Released from the handcuffs, he jumped down from the beam with an 'oof,' heading immediately to an unsecured basement window. Stacking a few wooden crates there containing bottles of liquor, he prepared to exit.

Suddenly he had an idea; checking his pockets, he was relieved to find a book of matches still there. Opening one of the bottles of Napoleon brandy, he took a quick swig before pouring the remaining contents on the crates and floor.

He opened a second bottle, and helped himself to a mouthful. Illya tore a piece from his tattered shirt, wetting it with the brandy and stuffing it into the neck of the bottle to create a Molotov cocktail.

He lit it with his last match and threw it to the floor with as much strength as he could muster and watched for a split second as it burst into flame.

He grabbed one more bottle of the brandy and took it with him as he climbed out the window. Hobbling off, he disappeared into the dark woods.

Once he was far enough away he turned to see the flames and smoke rising into the clear night sky. The old Victorian house in which he was being held was going up in flames. He could hear screams and the idea that his captors were dying in agony gave him a feeling of satisfaction.

He opened the brandy, taking another long drink from it to take the edge off his pain.

Illya wandered through the woods, continuing to drink until he finally found where they'd parked the silver convertible, and in it was his partner and Napoleon wasn't alone.

Angelique La Chien was there in a considerable state of undress; it was obvious they'd just had sex.

"So this is what you were doing insssstead of coming to rescue me?" Illya slurred.

"This dog and her…"he couldn't think of the word in English, so he switched to Russian." her pizda means more to you thththan I do?"

Napoleon quickly climbed out of the car, while Angelique hurriedly dressed herself. She stepped out from the driver's side, leaving the two agents to face off with each other.

"You betrayed me for her?" Illya pointed an accusing finger before he took another swig of brandy. It was obvious he was quite drunk.

"Tovarisch, I'm sorry. I was distracted by…" he turned to see his THRUSH lover was gone.

"Tha's right, I take back seat to that bi…" Illya threw the bottle at Solo who very easily ducked.

"You're drunk Illya."

"So what if I am? What do you care? I suffered while you...you got," Kuryakin suddenly lurched forward, leaning on the car as he began to wretch until at last he vomited.

Napoleon felt awful. He'd let Angelique distract him; Illya was right.

"I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again Illya. Now please get in the car; you need medical attention."

There was no answer and Solo watched as his partner passed out.

Illya woke up in the medical suite at headquarters in New York. Napoleon had gotten there in record time as they were just over the river in New Jersey.

He slowly turned his head, seeing Napoleon sitting in a chair beside the bed. He was unkempt and unshaven, and looked as though he hadn't changed his clothes in days.

His elbow was leaning on the arm of the chair, with his hand covering half of his face.

"_Napoleon_?"

"Oh, hi," Solo's eyes opened wide as he rubbed his face with his hand. "How you feeling?"

"Like I have been run over by a large truck several times."

Napoleon spoke tentatively, "Do you remember what happened?"

"Vaguely. There was torture, an escape and much alcohol involved."

"That's it, that's all you remember?"

"The microdot, it was in the heel of my shoe. Is it safe?"

"Yes, they went through your clothing and found it...luckily the goons who had you didn't think of doing that."

"Yes, THRUSH minions can be quite thick, can they not?"

"That's the truth. So nothing else you recall?"

Illya's lower lip jutted out as he shook his head."Am I missing something?"

"No...no. Everything's fine. Now that you're awake I'm going to go get cleaned up.

"Yes please, I can actually smell you from here.._.Stinky,_" Illya used one of Solo's pet names for him.

That made Napoleon smile. "Can I bring you anything? No wait, sorry...you have to have your lime jello before you eat anything solid. You took quite a beating."

"I did? I do not remember the details."

"Take a look under your hospital gown at your stomach and chest; the bruises are quite colorful."

Illya cocked an eyebrow upon hearing that and quickly lifted his sheet and the gown.

"Apparently so; I still recall none of the specifics."

"That's good tovarisch." At first Napoleon felt relieved but being a relatively honest man he couldn't lie to his partner and best friend.

"Look Illya, it's my fault this happened to you. I should have been there for you but I wasn't; I let myself be distracted by a woman...actually by Angelique. Thinking back on it, it was a trap, a deliberate attempt to keep me occupied while her cohorts in crime went at you.

"It was? Hmmm, why does that not come as a surprise to me? One day my friend a woman will be the death of you, but hopefully not me as well," Illya closed his eyes, a slight smile on his lips.

As soon as Napoleon left, he opened his eyes again. His anger at his partner had subsided; he was lying when he said he remembered nothing. Napoleon's honest apology was enough as he knew the man was filled with guilt and that was punishment enough. Still deep down he felt a tinge of pain that could only whisper of betrayal. That had to stop.

Nurse Walsh walked into his room carrying a covered dish with her.

"Napoleon told me you were awake, so I'm sorry we need you to eat the dreaded jello to make sure you don't have any internal bleeding. You know he sat in that chair by your bed nearly thirty hours. We brought him food but he didn't eat much. He just wanted coffee to stay awake. It must be good to have someone who worries about you that much."

Illya merely nodded his reply.

She uncovered the dish and rather than relying on Illya to feed himself...knowing he wouldn't, she held out a spoonful.

Illya opened his mouth, and uncharacteristically, he let her feed him.

"You must be feeling pretty bad to let me do this."

"In ways you will hopefully never know."

Nurse Walsh reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, it was a gesture of affection and Illya appreciated it.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome. I'd rather I didn't see you in here so often, maybe when you're of a mind we could go out for some coffee...or rather tea," she smiled. "Sometimes it's good to see a colleague under nonprofessional circumstance."

"I would like that very much." Illya closed his eyes again, this time a bit more relaxed. He nodded off quickly.

Napoleon stopped by again after showering, shaving and changing his clothes but Illya was fast asleep.

He went back to the nurses station to enquire as to his partner's condition.

"How is he?" He asked Nurse Walsh.

"Well, he actually ate his jello and there wasn't one word of protest. Though that's out of character for him, Doctor Greene says he'll be fine. There's no broken bones, just a lot of sore and bruised muscles. He's a lucky guy."

"Thanks." Napoleon decided to head down to his office as there was a report to write, with or without Illya.

He nodded to himself, whispering that he was the lucky guy and it wasn't the Solo Luck, it was luck at having such a great partner. It was about time he remembered that when a woman was trying to seduce him.

From now on Illya Kuryakin would always be given priority...


End file.
